Eye of the Beholder
by Kirlial
Summary: All wizards are born gifted in a particular branch of magic. At Hogwarts it's important for wizards to work out their speciality, for the ministry demands that they dress accordingly. Harry goes into his fourth year, unsure what his specialisation might be even as the wizarding world makes ever greater demands, until he meets a girl whose gift is her curse. Harry/Fleur. Somewhat AU
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, here's a new story. This is going to be somewhat AU as I introduce a sort of class system to wizards. This starts in fourth year and you can assume the main events of previous years still happened similarly.**

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Harry Potter loved the Hogwarts express. He loved how it was hidden on its own secret platform and how it was old but lovingly cared for. It was the place he'd first met his two best friends, even if they hadn't all gotten along instantly. Mostly though, it was the train that would take him to Hogwarts, his true home.

Hermione didn't really seem to agree with his points, muttering about how it was all a ploy to force them to make friends. They had not had the best start and even Neville hadn't really wanted to talk to her for a whole train journey so she'd spent much of her first one reading alone, scared.

"You were really bad at first impressions, you know?" Ron pointed out.

Ron had enjoyed his first journey very much, claiming that Harry's company had been more than he'd ever hoped for. If the journey hadn't encouraged them to make friends, as Hermione claimed, then they'd have quite possibly not found each other at all. Harry's attention would have been claimed by a better wizard, attracted by his fame.

"I wasn't that bad! I introduced myself and started talking about magic," Hermione retorted. "I thought everyone would want to talk about magic."

"Hermione, you went on about how good you were at magic and how you'd read all your textbooks - and you wouldn't stop talking." Despite his words, Ron was smiling fondly.

"Well, I didn't want to fall behind-"

"And then you freaked out about my blade," he added.

Hermione flushed. "Fine, I was bad. I didn't know it could be normal to carry around a sword."

Strapped to Ron's side at all times was a long steel sword, signifying his status as a Spellblade. It meant he specialised in channelling magic through weapons, allowing the sword to be far more dangerous and versatile than the simple blade looked. It still left him far less effective than the average wizard with a more normal specialisation.

"I still don't know my specialisation," Harry said. On the last three train journeys, they'd both asked if he had worked his out. This year, it seemed they'd chosen not to mention it.

In first year, a large portion of wizards hadn't yet known their specialisation. Hermione hadn't worked out her specialisation then either and Harry had simply been eager to work out what his expertise would be. All wizards were born with a specialisation in one field of magic. All wizards could only advance so far in the basic general magic taught to everyone. Not knowing yours meant it was probably a very obscure branch of magic that didn't have many everyday uses.

"Maybe you're a beastmaster, with a natural talent at one kind of creature," Ron offered. It wasn't the first time he'd suggested it, for his brother Charlie had apparently only discovered his specialisation was dragons after he'd left Hogwarts.

"Yeah. Maybe I'm an expert in magically controlling doxies." Harry doubted he'd be lucky enough for something like dragons.

"Maybe you've got a really rare gift Harry. I've been reading up on a few obscure branches over the summer. There's this one called a Diviner – not related to divination thank goodness – it involves spells effecting how you see the world so you see could magic and detect things others can't…"

Harry glanced towards Ron and they exchanged smiles. Hermione was the same as ever. Harry did mentally take notes of each of the magical arts she mentioned though, just in case one of them really was his specialisation. It was his fourth year now and it was getting to be really worrying that he hadn't worked out his gifts yet.

He leaned back in his seat, even as Ron took up Hermione's attention with some cutting remarks on her obsessive reading that were clearly intended to rile her up, not that she realised. He loved the Hogwarts express, he really did. He could look forward to Hogwarts because it could only be better than where he'd come from. He could enjoy the company of his two best friends knowing they wouldn't judge him. And it was still too early to face the realities of life in Hogwarts.

The perfect atmosphere lasted right up until Hogsmeade station, where Harry was forced to exit wearing his generalist robes. It was a mandate that everyone had to wear robes which indicated their specialisation. He hadn't worked his out so he was stuck in the plain black uniform while Hermione wore her beautiful purple dress robes, it signalled her specialisation as an Enchantress, someone who could permanently imbue items with special properties, though it took her a great deal of time and effort to properly enchant something. Ron's outfit wasn't really robes at all, instead the material was far shorter to aid in greater mobility as a rare close-range fighter.

As they boarded the horseless coaches that would take them to Hogwarts, the three of them were joined by Colin Creevey. Despite being a year younger, he'd long since worked out his specialisation as an Aeromage, someone who specialised in spells to with manipulating air. Where Harry could lift a feather with magic, Colin could cause an implosion or prevent an inferno.

"Hello! Hope you don't mind me sitting with you guys, I lost my friends in the crowd and your carriage had space," Colin said.

"Hey Colin," Ron said, unenthused.

"This is my third year so that means I finally get special classes on my speciality, right? Are those classes difficult? What if they don't have a teacher for me? I think I'm the only Aeromage in my year," Colin continued, looking eagerly at the three of them.

Harry glanced over to Hermione. He was fairly certain Ron's classes wouldn't apply to the majority of wizards. "Any wizard whose speciality is a particular element will have classes together, under an experienced elementalist, who can use all of them to an advanced degree, it's just like any other class though so expect lots of homework and studying even if it has fewer students than you're used to," she explained, dutifully.

"Cool!" He cheered.

"Hey Harry, you're still in General robes? I heard you were a protector," Colin piped up.

"Uh, no. Where'd you hear that?" Harry asked. Protectors specialised in protection charms, usually directly on people, as opposed to warders who usually charmed areas. He was not either, regretfully.

"Oh I just heard you stopped all the dementors from attacking you 'cause you knew some really strong protections."

"Hermione's work," he admitted. Dementors had had a strong effect on Harry and he'd asked Hemrione if she could enchant anything to keep them away. The project had taken her ages as she hadn't exactly been suited towards making items to stop magical creatures. She managed though and thanks to her they'd saved Sirius.

"Oh. Cool, I guess."

Colin was nice enough, he was hardly about to start looking down on him for his lack of Specialisation, not like many of his classmates who had expected him to be really powerful, not below average. Even so, his disappointment was evident. Colin was probably wondering the same thing everyone else did. How could Harry Potter, the boy who lived, not even have a specialisation?

Colin soon changed the subject. "So, my brother's coming to Hogwarts this year. We totally didn't expect it – maybe my parents are secretly wizards after all. But he's definitely got magic, he even already worked out his specialisation. He's a battlemage!"

"Really?" Ron wasn't bothering to hide his irritation. Battlemages could do pretty much anything a spellblade did – except they didn't have to channel the effects through a weapon meaning they could launch powerful curses at a range. They were pretty much better than a spellblade in every way, as Ron had oft been reminded.

"Yeah, I hope he gets sorted into Gryffindor too – and that he makes it to Hogwarts at all." There was a hint of concern in his voice.

They all glanced outside where the lake looked diabolical in the stormy rains. It was chilly and wet and windy and generally a day best spent inside. Harry didn't envy the first-years forced to get to Hogwarts by boat.

"Don't worry, I'm sure the boats are perfectly safe. Most of the first years will survive," Ron consoled.

"Ron! All of the first years are going to make it across, Dumbledore will make sure of it," Hermione snapped.

The four of them thankfully arrived at Hogwarts then, before Ron could frighten Colin anymore. Hopefully Colin would stay with his friends from there, because Harry simply didn't know how to deal with the overly eager boy.

"Don't suppose you brought an enchanted umbrella?" Ron asked Hermione, looking at the distance between the carriage and the great doors leading into the entrance hall.

"How would I even enchant it? I don't suppose you have a regular umbrella?" Hermione replied.

"Anti-theft enchantments?" Harry suggested quietly, looking at the crowd of students hurrying through the rain.

"Let's just get this over with, I can't wait to get to the feast," Ron sighed.

They hurried out of their carriage, running for Hogwarts. It was, very literally, their shelter from the storms, their safe haven. Harry could only wonder at what this year would bring.

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 **A somewhat short first chapter, just introducing the idea. You can expect future chapters to be a little longer.**

 **I mentioned that Hermione was more instrumental in the resolution of book 3, I won't go into details but due to the AU nature, she wasn't allowed to take all those extra classes so she wasn't so stressed and distracted.**

 **Anyway, feel free to review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites!**

 **Two chapters in two days. Don't expect this trend to continue but I figured the first chapter wasn't that good and I was eager to write another. It's also a fair bit longer, I'll probably keep future chapters around this length too.**

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Malfoy was smirking at him two tables away; Harry could only wonder what possessed him to sit facing the Slytherin table. His grey and black robes signified his talents as a mentalist, an expert in the mind arts. A rather useful speciality which guaranteed him a place as an Obliviator if he so wanted, plus dozens of other jobs. Most wizards were wary of those who could influence their minds but Malfoy seemed to be well-accepted within his own house at the very least and was happy to flaunt. Harry and Ron were his favourite targets.

"You reckon they swam to Hogwarts?" Ron spoke up.

Harry turned away from Malfoy to watch the first years slowly trailing in behind Professor Mcgonnagall, who were certainly a bedraggled bunch, bringing in a great deal of water with them.

"Be quiet, there's the sorting hat," Hermione cut in, staring in awe at the ancient hat.

Ever since she'd discovered her talent as an Enchantress she'd become completely enamoured by ancient artefacts, wondering if she could ever create something on that scale.

"Do you think Gryffindor was an enchanter too?" Hermione asked softly.

"I thought she wanted us to stop talking," Ron muttered.

He nevertheless replied. "The sorting hat has a personality, it's more than a simple enchantment. It's probably made with Runes or Potions or something."

"Back in those days they didn't even have a complex classification system," Harry added, as the sorting hat begun to sing.

It was different from his first year's song but mostly similar, explaining the noble traits of each house. Harry sat up a little straighter as it described the courage and determination of Gryffindor. Maybe he didn't have a fancy specialisation yet, but the founders hadn't either. They weren't required to wear special robes declaring their abilities to the world.

He'd been disappointed to miss the Sorting ceremony the last two years but as he watched the first years walk up one by one to put on the illustrious hat, he had to admit it was a little boring. Further down the Gryffindor table he heard quiet murmurs as the older years tried to guess where each first year would end up. He nevertheless cheered every time Gryffindor was called out, smiling at their looks of relief as they sat down.

There was a lot of students though, had his own year been that large? It had seemed like no time at all until his name had been called out but they weren't even halfway through and Harry couldn't help but look down at the empty plates in front of him.

Dennis Creevey had been sorted into Gryffindor, to great fanfare. It seemed the largest cheers were saved for the most gifted and Battle Mages were good - very good. In his own year, Zacharias Smith and Kevin Entwisle were both Battle Mages, and, while Harry didn't know any two boys quite so different from each other, both were excellent duelists. They'd fought each other a couple times actually and the speed and variety of powerful curses they throw at each other were impressive. None of those curses had been of the lethal variety, of course, but they knew spells that could knock someone unconscious or tie them up in ropes or weaken them.

Harry Potter was expected to know how to do things like that, but he didn't. He could just about manage to disarm someone of a wand, (not a larger weapon though, getting Ron's sword out of his grip was beyond him), but he'd never stand a chance against any wizard who could properly fight. He'd been helpless to stop the Death eaters at the world cup, and he hadn't even noticed losing his wand to a House Elf. He didn't know what he was gifted in and as he watched the sorting hat taking a particularly long time to sort a worried little girl, he wondered. Maybe he had no gift at all and would forever be a subpar wizard.

Finally the sorting ceremony ended and most of the school started turning their heads towards the main table, where Professor Dumbledore sat. He slowly stood up beaming at all the students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts! I'm sure you're all anxious to begin eating and I have heard some marvellous things about the roast lamb so I will be brief," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling merrily.

"Tuck in!" Dumbledore waved his wand and the candles at the head table flickered on, drawing attention to all the food which had suddenly appeared in front of the teachers.

As Dumbledore sat down, Harry turned to the plates in front of them, grinning as they filled up with delicious food. Ron quickly began filling up his plate and he heard Hermione sigh beside him. A moment later she was carefully choosing her own selection even as she smiled fondly at Ron's enthusiasm.

"Dumbledore's right, this lamb's fantastic," Ron said, several moments later.

"How can you even tell? You've drowned it in gravy," Hermione replied. "Lamb is best enjoyed with mint sauce, right Harry?"

Harry paused, hands centimetres away from the gravy jug. "Er, what's wrong with a bit of gravy?"

Hermione huffed in exasperation but didn't elaborate. "Well, I suppose that must be mad-eye moody there," she said, gesturing to the staff table.

They'd heard about the paranoid auror earlier that summer after Ron's dad had apparently helped him out of a spot of trouble but this was the first time Harry had seen him in person. His face was covered in the most scars Harry had ever seen but what was most striking were his eyes. One was a normal enough beady brown, looking at Professor Sprout, who he seemed to be in conversation with. The other was electric blue and seemed to be surveying the hall.

"What sort of class is he?" Harry asked, unfamiliar with the elaborate pattern across his robes.

"I think he's a druid," Ron answered. "Knows all sorts of nature magic."

Looking more closely, he realised he had seen others in the school dressed similarly. It looked different with Moody though. Harry had thought druids were more peaceful than most, not one of the best dark-wizard catcher's there were.

"Is he really?" Hermione asked. "How does he overcome all the dark wizards he's fought?"

Ron shrugged. "He's really strong, I guess. He can make vines grow out of the ground and tangle enemies up, plus he can cast blessings on himself to give him an edge. Really, his main advantage is probably all the tracking spells he knows so he can always find his foes."

"Are you discussing the awesome powers of a druid?" Ginny, Ron's sister, was a few spaces down but looking in their direction. She had a large grin on her face.

"Moody's a druid, right?" Harry replied, already feeling impressed with their new defence professor.

Ginny briefly glanced over at the staff table. "Yeah, definitely. My friend Luna is another druid and she can be really clever with her magic, even if she's a bit strange."

Ron snorted. "Luna's absolutely crazy, always going on about these weird creatures and her connection to nature." He paused. "She's great company though."

Ginny didn't seem offended by the remarks about her friend. In fact, she was nodding along. "People call her Loony Lovegood, not that she minds. In fact, I've never seen her fazed by anything."

"Hmm, where is she?" Harry asked, looking over Ginny's shoulder for the mysterious friend. Inwardly he wondered if she was really as unaffected as Ginny claimed. He remembered being teased by the other kids at school when he was younger. And in Hogwarts too, actually.

"Oh, she's not in Gryffindor, she in Ravenclaw. She's the one with the long blonde hair… with the leaf chains in her hair," Ginny pointed her out. "Hmm… those sort of suit her."

Her back was to them but Harry could easily identify the druid girl. Just as Ginny said, Luna had somehow attached some long strings of leaves together and tied them into her messy hair. She seemed to be sitting alone, all the other students near her clearly absorbed in their own conversations.

"I don't expect Moody will be anything like her, even if they are both gifted in the same area," Hermione said, looking between the girl and their new teacher.

"No, I can't imagine being taught by someone like Luna," Ginny agreed, before turning, distracted by some other conversation amongst her year mates.

The conversation dwindled as the three of them returned to their meals before it was all replaced by desserts. The food really was delicious, as expected of a Hogwarts feast, though Harry's mind was still on Defence. They'd had a new DADA teacher every year and each year had been very different from the last.

"Defence is still going to be taught to everyone, right?" Harry checked, with a touch of nervousness.

In third year, most students had begun having classes which focused on their speciality, Hermione had had lessons teaching her how to be a good enchantress while Ron had learned the art of being a Spellblade. Harry had had some tedious magical theory lessons where he had been supposed to discover his specialisation. It hadn't worked.

"Yes, learning to defend yourself is still compulsory, even if it's going to become less magic-heavy curses and more dark creature studies or recognising an enemy's abilities," Hermione replied.

"And I'll learn to either get in close and stab them with a sword or run away," Ron muttered.

"Then all I'll get to learn is to run away," Harry said, smiling a touch bitterly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And I get to learn to spend hours making items for hypothetical scenarios and running away when they're not enough to do any harm."

Enchanting was a very useful field of magic, just not well-suited to fights at all. Being able to make feather-light trunks or self-inking quills was nice, but at best she could perhaps curse an item and really hope that the enemy was stupid enough to pick it up. Or maybe she could be a close-range fighter like Ron, only less effective as it was apparently very hard to enchant items with multiple effects. Of course, close-range fighters were at the mercy of long-range fighters, which was the majority of wizards naturally.

Harry continued to eat and tried to dismiss his worries. It was nice being at Hogwarts but he knew each year was going to deal with more advanced magic and he wouldn't be able to learn any of it. His friends understood though. Learning to defend themselves wouldn't have been so important if it wasn't for Voldemort and his death eaters after them. He'd prevailed twice so far but he couldn't help but feel like it wasn't enough.

The feast soon came to an end and Dumbledore stood up once more. Dumbledore was a great wizard, an Alchemist, someone who specialised in changing the nature of things.

"I hope you all enjoyed the feast, now that we're all fed and watered, a few notices to begin the year."

"Firstly, you may have noticed we have a new change in staff. Professor Moody has agreed to take over the position as Defence against the Dark Arts, and most of you should soon be having classes with him." Dumbledore gestured to Moody, who was still scanning the room, he did raise his head slightly at Dumbledore's announcement.

"Secondly a reminder that the forbidden forest is still out of bounds to all students." Harry quietly resolved to try and keep that promise this year, even if the dementors had been removed.

"Finally, I must inform you that all Quidditch is cancelled this year-"

Dumbledore paused at the groans and shock from the assembled students. Harry felt dismayed himself, glancing at Ron and Hermione in alarm. Quidditch was the one thing he really exceled at in school and he had been looking forward to flying again. Further down the Gryffindor table Fred and George were calling out large complaints and Harry was tempted to join in.

"Yes, yes, it will be back next year. The reason behind this decision is because I am proud to announce that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard tournament this year."

The complaints died away and everyone became transfixed. Harry had never heard of the tournament before but suddenly he was sure that this was what Charlie and Bill had been hinting about at the Quidditch world cup.

"The Triwizard tournament has been held many times over the years but had been cancelled due to some unfortunate deaths. This will be another attempt to bring it back with some new safety features.

"The Triwizard tournament is a tournament between the three premier wizarding schools in Europe, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Each school will choose a champion to compete in five dangerous tasks to test their skills. As well as eternal glory, the winner will receive 1000 galleons in prize money."

Dumbledore then explained how the champion would be chosen on Halloween, when the other schools would arrive. Hogwarts was going to be looking its best to impress the other schools. It sounded incredible though only for the very best wizards. When Dumbledore announced that only those 17 or older could compete, he was met with some groans but Harry privately felt relieved. He wouldn't have to worry about competing at all.

Dumbledore added that there would be other events occurring during the tournament besides the task and it would be a great chance to meet some of the students from other schools and Harry felt rather cheered. He wasn't sure what the other events would be, but the whole thing sounded exciting. An ancient tournament being revived and someone chosen to be Hogwarts Champion.

Soon Dumbledore dismissed everyone for bed and Harry walked back with Ron and Hermione, listening to the latter talk about how interesting it would be to meet other schools and how she was going to the library to look up more information about the Triwizard tournament. Ron was gently poking fun at her, but she didn't seem to notice.

The prefects soon gave them the new password and Harry gratefully trudged up Gryffindor tower to find his bed. There was no place that felt more like home to him. The new first years' gasps of amazement at everything they saw was nostalgic to listen to, he was sure in that within a few weeks it would feel like home to them too.

In his dormitory, his trunk had already arrived, as had his roommates. Neville was sorting out his stuff while Dean and Seamus chattered to each other; he was amused to see green banners from the Quidditch world cup being hung around their beds. Beside him, Ron was admiring his tiny Krum figurine, having placed it on his bedside.

Harry ignored the others to collapse into his four-poster bed, looking forward to sleeping soundly tonight. His mind briefly flickered to the nightmare he'd had over the summer, of Voldemort's plan to kill him, and the snake who had killed the muggle man. Then there was the Dark Mark appearing at the Quidditch world cup for the first time in years. He tried to put it out of his mind. He was safe at Hogwarts now.

"You okay, Harry?"

Harry started, realising he'd been staring at the floor, and quickly shook his head. "I'm fine, Ron." He answered, but his tone sounded unconvincing, even to him. "Just thinking about the Triwizard Tournament," he lied.

Ron relaxed. "Yeah. 1000 galleons, eternal glory. Wish we could compete. Maybe we're rubbish at magic, but I reckon we could pull it off anyway. We found the Chamber of Secrets, didn't we?"

"Hermione helped," Harry pointed out.

"True. She'd probably think it was a stupid idea," Ron replied solemnly. Then he grinned. "Until she saw all the enchantments we'd be facing and get distracted trying to solve all the tasks herself."

Hermione really did love puzzles and mysteries and challenges. Harry had no idea what the tasks were going to be but no doubt Hermione would love them. He quickly said good night to Ron though, as Ron looked like he might be willing to stay up all night discussing the tournament if he let him.

He had a busy year ahead of him.

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 **Thanks for reading! I'm aware that these beginning chapters have been mostly recapping events from book 4. I wanted to establish what's the same, as well as what's different but I feel like differences will become more apparent in the following chapters. The pace should pick up too.**

 **I hope the dialogue between Harry, Ron and Hermione sounds good. And I hope the specialities thing makes sense.**

 **Feel free to leave a review. Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the feedback! Here's the next chapter!**

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The next day at breakfast, Harry received his timetable.

Professor Mcgonnagall had been advancing down the Gryffindor table but paused when she got to Harry. "Have you still not worked out your gift, Mr. Potter?" She asked in a clipped voice, before handing him his timetable.

"No. Not yet," he replied, miserably.

"Then I have some good news for you," Mcgonnagall was organising some of the parchment in her hands, not looking at him. "You won't have to take any more potions classes until next term."

Professor Snape, the potions master, hated him. Enduring long lessons down in the dungeons had easily been his least favourite part of his week. Looking over his new timetable, it seemed he had a new lesson to make up for it.

"Excuse me professor, what's magical research and philosophy?"

Mcgonnagall finally looked down at him. "Hogwarts, as you know, is committed to finding our students best abilities and enhancing them. Many wizards do not discover their speciality until later in life so these classes will help you to find other areas in which you excel."

"Oh, right," Harry said faintly. More magical theory classes, fewer practical subjects. Defence and charms were the main exceptions in that regard.

"Maybe these lessons will teach the three of you not to go rushing into danger this year?" Mcgonnagall added, looking sternly at him and his friends, who had been examining their own timetables.

"Half the time, the trouble finds us actually," came Ron's reply. He turned pink a second later. "Umm, Ma'am."

"Then I expect you to inform an adult," she replied. "Ideally one who is not a fake," Mcgonnagall added, referring to Lockhart. Lockhart had been a mentalist pretending to be a beastmaster.

"Of course, professor," Hermione replied, shooting him and Ron looks until they both nodded along.

It turned out that all three of them had history of magic together that morning. Usually not something to get excited about, except that they had a new teacher. Binns, a ghost with a voice that was sure to put anyone into a stupor, apparently only taught the first three years of history.

Hermione made sure the two of them were more than on time, despite their protests, and they were rewarded with the sight of their teacher gliding into the room. A tall dark-haired man with an ageless quality about him that many older wizards seemed to possess.

Harry could recall seeing him a couple times throughout his time at Hogwarts though he'd never heard him speak, nor did he have any idea if he was a good teacher. Well, any teacher was better than Binns. His eyes were quickly drawn to his robes, and the speciality they indicated.

"Welcome to History of magic, where throughout this year we will be covering the formation of modern Wizarding Society, focussing on the creation of the Ministry of Magic and other significant organisations," their new teacher began when the rest of the class had arrived.

"My name is Professor Ignatius Hickory. You have probably noticed that I am a Seer," he continued.

Seers were very good at seeing visions of the future. Maybe they sometimes saw visions of the past as well, which was why he'd become their teacher. No one had known what Binns' speciality had been, unless it was his perfect memory of Goblin Wars. Of course, maybe class was entirely irrelevant in his field of study.

"I doubt many of you have had much experiencing in divining the future, but it is a gift that serves me well. If your magic cannot aid you though, you may find that looking to the past will reveal how things will be in the future."

"Regardless," he continued. "This is a knowledge-based course and I expect by the end of it that each of you will have a better understanding of how magical society came to be, and why."

Glancing around the classroom, it would be an exaggeration to say that the other students looked enraptured but they were nonetheless listening. Harry hadn't felt very interested in learning history aside from very briefly in the second year when they'd learned all about the chamber of secrets. Learning about the ministry's formation sounded a little boring but knowing more about magical society certainly felt promising.

Professor Hickory continued by explaining his general expectations, which basically meant read the assigned readings before their lessons and hand in essays on time while assuring everyone that they could always ask for help. Harry had heard this sort of information many times before but was pleased to learn that there wouldn't been any homework aside from reading for the first few weeks.

Only once all this was out of the way did he start describing how before the statute of secrecy, there were actually very few wizards and most of them had kept to themselves. Many had not even been aware of the existence of other wizards. The formation of Hogwarts was an incredible event therefore, because it was a collaboration between wizards of four different families and showed that wizardry could be taught beyond any single person's individual gifts. Many specialities were instinctive and were less reliant on wands meaning they were often discovered.

There was no real wizarding society in those times because wizards were so rare. Magic was seen as a unique family secret. The creation of Hogwarts, at least in Britain, led to the formation of a community as it brought many magic users together. Argus Selwyn was a gifted Tracer at the time who managed to create a way for wizards to be detected at an early age and his work formed the basis for finding young wizards to this day.

Their new professor stood at the front of the class speaking while expecting them to take notes, much like Binns had, only Harry was keen to keep up this time. Maybe it was the subject matter, but he felt like Binns had touched on comparable topics before, they'd just utterly failed to keep his interest. It was nice having an effective teacher in History for once.

By the time their lesson had ended, Harry had taken up a large chunk of parchment in barely legible notes and he wasn't alone in that regard. Even Ron had written a few things down.

"It's strange, you know," Hermione began thoughtfully as they left.

"Should we be guessing what you're thinking?" Ron said, with an eye roll.

"It's just, Professor Binns has been the sole history teacher for years and years apparently, and then Professor Hickory joined in our first year," Hermione explained.

"Did he?" Harry asked; he hadn't paid any attention to the new staff announcements in his first year.

"Sounds like a good thing, I don't know if I could have survived another year with Binns," Ron said.

"Yes… it's just he claimed to watch the future, I wonder what inspired him to suddenly start teaching?"

Ron and Hermione soon left for their individual classes while Harry got ready for his first lesson of magical research and philosophy. He soon ran into Justin Finch-fletchley, another wizard who hadn't discovered his speciality. They hadn't gotten on well in second year, but by third year, most of their year had discovered their specialities and they'd begun to hang out. They'd both grown up among muggles and they both had something of a second home in the Wizarding world.

"Know anything about this course?" Was Justin first question, unsurprisingly.

Harry shrugged. "No idea. Is the class the same as last year?"

"Hmm? Probably. Well, I heard Eloise discovered her speciality was Rune Warding, so she'll be gone."

"Like, regular warding but powered by ancient runes instead?" He asked.

Justin shrugged. "I think so. She's drawn runes on all her possessions now, so presumably they're doing something."

Magical research turned out to be strange. Maybe he should have anticipated as much. Their teacher worked part-time at the ministry of magic and she wanted them to experience a flavour of some of the work. She explained that although they lacked the abilities of most wizards, they were still magical and ought to embrace it.

Their teacher was a generalist like them, a portly woman named Bianca Hawthorne. Her research was based around other sources of focus for magic aside from magic wands. It sounded good, but if Harry had expected anything remotely logical to follow, he might have been disappointed.

"All wizards are born with magic and yet all wizards are born different. It is from these differences that arises strength," she said.

"Yet, differences divide us, so it is in our similarities that there can be unity. None of us know what makes us different which means we are the ones who make our society," their teacher continued, sounding like she knew what she was talking about at the very least.

However, she was forcing the eight of them to sit in a circle on the floor, having already told them that their homework was to memorise ancient wizarding chants, which they were to practise next lesson until it sounded 'magical'. Her classroom was covered in strange artefacts, many of which had faces which seemed to stare at him though thankfully nothing had moved, so far.

"As such, it is up to us to discover new magics which will transform our society, this year we will be researching the many forms magic can take and with any luck, we will discover something interesting."

"We will begin with a meditation session, you all brought your meditation mats, right?"

Harry glanced at the others, relieved to see that none of them looked to know what she was talking about. Well, Lily Moon was unreadable as ever but she'd already closed her eyes without taking out a meditation mat.

Professor Hawthorne sighed. "How did you expect to strengthen the magical bonds between you without meditation mats?" That was what they were doing?

The lesson continued in that fashion for far too long. Their professor would make strange statements, expecting them to grasp exactly what she was talking about. Then she would elaborate on a seemingly unimportant detail and within a few minutes her original point seemed lost.

When Justin bravely asked what this course had to do with philosophy, Hawthorne actually shrugged and claimed that it would be something to do with knowing when to use magic, and what should be forbidden. Harry was not filled with confidence.

When lunchtime finally arrived, Harry was relieved.

* * *

Aside from his new lessons, Harry's first week passed just like any other. Moody's lessons on defence against the dark arts proved to be excellent, with him describing the unforgiveable curses and all the Classes who were potentially able to perform such spells. He hadn't expected to like the scarred veteran but Moody seemed more than knowledgeable, he seemed experienced.

His lesson on the unforgiveable curses also drove home how little Harry really knew about Voldemort's capabilities. No one knew precisely what his specialisation had been, except that it was both extremely powerful and extremely cruel. He was supposed to be out there somewhere, weak and defeated, but Harry couldn't forget his dream over the summer and how Voldemort was out there, plotting to kill him.

He didn't mention any of his worries to Ron and Hermione, who were in good spirits. Hermione had been looking up the Triwizard tournament in her free time and Ron had been drawn in when she noticed that a Spellblade had been one of the competitors years ago. Ron was oddly pleased about that fact considering the Spellblade in question had also died in the second task.

She also learned that each champion was permitted to choose a partner to aid them in four out of the five tasks. The reasoning for this was due to how specialised each champion had to be and how that led to tasks they had great difficulty in. A partner was therefore a complement to the champion's abilities.

"Dumbledore didn't mention anything about partners," Ron pointed out.

"The tournament doesn't begin until Halloween, I'm sure it'll be brought up soon," Hermione replied, eyes not leaving the old book she'd taken from the library.

The teachers were being very tight-lipped about the Triwizard tournament in general. Many students had been inquiring about the event but no one seemed to know how the champions were being chosen, or any of the tasks. Hermione's diligent reading informed her that there was an impartial judge, but nothing else.

Still, the whole school was buzzing about the Triwizard tournament and he heard lots of seventh years debating between themselves about competing. Without needing to worry about that himself, Harry could enjoy the atmosphere, and attempt to guess who would be chosen from Hogwarts.

At the same time, the tournament was still far off, and he knew they wouldn't be getting any answers until then. Not that some people weren't pretending otherwise.

"My father has told me all about the Triwizard tournament of course. My great-grandfather competed in one, you know?" Malfoy said to Pansy, but loudly enough that the entire class could hear.

It was care of magical creatures and once more they were with the Slytherins. Hagrid was teaching them again, in good spirits now that the Buckbeak fiasco of last year was over. He had declared that they were going to work on a project, raising some Blast-ended Skrewts. This lesson was dedicated to trying to feed them and no one had had much success given that they lacked mouths.

Malfoy had soon gotten bored of the work and was talking loudly with his friends. Harry ignored them, quietly hoping they didn't feel like bothering him.

"So, Potter, I bet you were thinking of entering the tournament too, you have your reputation to live up to, right?" Malfoy sauntered over, lips curling.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron cut in, hand on the handle of the sword at his waist.

"Oh, was it you planning to enter? Well, you have more of a hope than Potter, not that you're a proper wizard, either."

Ron was silent.

Malfoy was openly grinning now. "You're both pretending to be wizards but one day you'll realise that you're as useful as these Blast-ended Skrewts." He and his friends began laughing, like he'd said the most hilarious thing.

"None of us will be entering the tournament, we're not old enough," Hermione said sharply, putting a hand on Ron's arm to stop him from doing anything.

"Not gifted enough, you mean," Malfoy sneered.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry said dully, turning away.

Malfoy tended to always say the same things but somehow, he always got under his skin. Ever since they'd seen each other on the train, Malfoy had thought it hilarious that he hadn't worked out his speciality and the start of the year wasn't complete without him pointing it out once more. There wasn't much he could do about it however. Malfoy usually stuck to insults and usually out of range of any teacher not named Snape. Hagrid was assisting Dean and Seamus with their Skrewts on the other side of the field, at that moment, in fact.

Not that duelling would have any better results. Malfoy knew a lot more magic than he, all of it classed as mental magic but there was a plethora of minor curses that he could use. Every year, he was learning more severe spells as well and Harry simply didn't possess the means to compete. His only hope would be a quick disarming spell before Malfoy could do anything.

In his first year, he'd been so determined to discover his speciality, one that would allow him to be stronger. By now though, he was becoming resigned to not ever finding out. Even if he did, an ability so obscure that it took this long to discover was probably practically useless.

"Ignore him, he's not worth it" Ron had somehow calmed himself down and seemed to have noticed his frustration.

A bit ironic coming from Ron but Harry appreciated his words nonetheless. Malfoy continued chuckling behind them but Ron resolutely went over to his bag and started packing up his stuff.

"Besides, I think he's just about the only terrible thing this year, no dementors, no chamber of secrets, a good Defence teacher, we don't even have lessons with Snape anymore," Ron continued.

"Quite right, Ron," Hermione said behind them. "I'm looking forward to this tournament, remember how Dumbledore mentioned other events alongside the main tournament?"

"And the other schools," Harry added, curious about seeing students from another wizarding school himself.

"Yes!" Hermione's face had lit up. "I hear they're normally very secretive, this will be a great chance to see what they're actually like."

Before Hermione continued, Ron quickly broke in: "we still need to get the Skrewts back in their box."

That put a halt to their conversation as they stared at the multitude of strange creatures wandering across the grounds, occasionally exploding. Harry wondered if they'd be able to convince Hagrid to teach them about something more normal this year.

* * *

 **This was essentially another introductory chater where I wanted to establish the setting and it turned into a collection of lessons, all of which were probably a tad rushed because I didn't want to spend too long on this yet I sort of felt necessary to include. As such it's a bit of a relief just to post something. I hope it wasn't too terrible.**

 **Next chapter I want to skip over to the triwizard tournament.**

 **Thanks for reading and please feel feel to review; I appreciate each one.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey there, I was dismayed to realise it's been nearly three weeks since I've updated. I'll try to work on more of a schedule. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews, there's been lots of interesting comments. It's totally fair to say the start has been a little slow, though I figured it was necessary to take the time to set the scene.**

* * *

The weeks seemed to fly by as Harry soon became busy with lessons and homework. The teacher's were piling on more homework than last year, echoing Hermione's comments on how OWLs were next year, as if that wasn't ages away. He soon settled into a routine, keeping up on his work while experimenting with magic whenever he, Ron and Hermione had the time. He occasionally looked up rare specialities in an attempt to find his own but he was having no luck on that front.

Halloween had looked so far away at first and the Triwizard tournament was no longer on his thoughts so it surprised him to learn that he'd been at Hogwarts for more than a month already. Suddenly, the new arrivals were only a week away and Hogwarts itself seemed to fly into a frenzy of activity.

Detentions now involved cleaning every inch of the castle and every lesson seemed to consist of particularly difficult topics or work to display and decorate the walls. The teachers seemed to have far less patience than usual, reminding their students that they had to look their best in front of Beauxbatons and Durmstang.

"I don't recall Dumbledore mentioning this competition being all about showing off," Ron said, smirking as he watched his twin brothers sneaking away from Mcgonnagall.

"It's not showing off, we're merely reminding them that we're slightly better than them," Hermione said sardonically. She gave Ron a light push before he could get too distracted and Ron quickly resumed walking.

"Still, I don't see how the fourth years charms class is going to matter to anyone," Ron replied, grumpily. The three of them had just gotten out of a charms class and Ron had been sharply scolded by Flitwick, after completely failing at some heating charms. They had some free time and were going to their private spot.

Harry couldn't resist a grin. "Don't worry, I doubt they're going to make you the champion of Hogwarts. The seventh years on the other hand are probably being threatened with expulsion or worse." He couldn't help but look towards Hermione as he said that, but she only rolled her eyes.

"Well come on, we said we'd work on your gifts," Hermione said, dismissing the topic.

Harry sighed, following his friends. He couldn't complain about them sacrificing their time to help him discover his speciality but he had been intentionally overstating his busyness in order to delay this. Granted they were busier than they been last year but he could have made time to work on it. It was just… they'd probably worked on it a hundred times with no results.

Hermione was nothing if not methodical however. She claimed that it was unlikely he'd just discover his speciality on accident and if they just tested each class one by one then they'd be bound to find it. Each failure, she insisted, was just one step closer to success. It was hard to say if Ron really agreed, he had spoken about how magic wasn't something to force in the past but later admitted he couldn't see why Hermione's approach wouldn't work.

"I guess the hideaway could do with some of those heating charms," Ron groaned, without any real feeling.

Their private spot was actually outside the castle, below the Quidditch stadium. It was some sort of old abandoned cellar that was quite spacious since they'd removed or destroyed all the empty boxes they'd first found there. Ron had dubbed the place their Hideaway. Despite his frustrations, Harry did find himself relaxing as they approached the uneven steps leading into their cellar. He hadn't visited it in months.

There was a heavy lock on the doors but it might as well have been for decoration as it was non-magical. With a wave of his wand and a quiet 'Alohomora' the lock gave a satisfying click and he pulled open the door.

The three of them poured into the dark and somewhat damp room and settled into a familiar ritual of cleaning and illuminating their hideaway. Torches were set up around the room and Hermione lit each of them up. Ron tackled the dust on the sparse furnishings and gave each of the chairs a light repairing charm. Harry closed the doors and started filling their space with warming charms.

Ron shot Harry a light glare. "You're just showing off now," he grumbled into the now cosy room.

"Honestly Ron, just because you struggle with basic charms, doesn't mean we all have to," Hermione intervened, taking a seat around the lone table and dropping her bag beside it. "Now we're here to test out some potential branches of magic for Harry."

"Have you found some more?" Harry asked, looking at the collection of books Hermione had brought with her.

"Yes, I've recently been looking at healing magic," Hermione replied eagerly, grabbing a brightly coloured book.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not a healer."

Discovering your speciality was like finding the right wand, or so Harry had been told. A sudden warmth, a feeling of rightness, a sudden feeling of knowledge as you found the magic that was right for you. Healing magic was one of the first he'd tried, when Ron had told him about how his little sister was gifted with healing. No luck, he'd found the simplest mending charms difficult to cast.

Harry couldn't remember ever feeling any rightness with any single branch of magic. Well, except for when he'd met Voldemort at the end of his first year. His scar had been burning and Voldemort had been demanding the Philosopher's stone. Yet, Quirrell, sharing a body with Voldemort, hadn't been able to touch him. Dumbledore had explained afterwards that it was his mother's sacrifice which had saved him. The same sacrifice which had allowed him to defeat him when Harry had been just a baby. Maybe he'd lost his speciality that night when his parents died? And all he'd ever have was that power from his mother's Sacrifice.

"Actually, you've only really tried one branch of healing, the main branch, there's actually a few types," Hermione explained, writing a list on some parchment.

Most kinds of magic seemed to be set up in branches. Elementalists, for instance, specialised in using the various elements of nature in their spells. Pyromancers focused only on fire magic but could learn more powerful fire spells that were outside an elementalist's capabilities. Likewise, Beastmasters were good with taming a variety of magical creatures where dragon tamers were great with just draconic creatures.

"So, what else is there?" Ron asked.

"Mind healer, disease healer, healing potions-" Hermione listed.

"Not any good with potions," Harry cut in.

"Er, right," Hermione agreed, crossing that off her list. "There's also blood mage -though it isn't really healing- rune healer, which we tried last year with all the other rune classes…"

Soon they'd compiled a decent list of classes to try. Nevertheless, it was unlikely to take very long to try each of them out. The simplest way to try was to find a spell ideal for the chosen class, then spend some time studying it before attempting to cast it. If any of these were indeed his speciality, he'd feel that innate 'rightness.' Really, it could potentially reveal itself purely from his studying of the spell but surely it'd be impossible to miss his speciality if he tried to cast a spell.

While Harry began reading up on some healing theory and spells to try, Ron volunteered to find a test subject. Healing spells didn't sound like the safest ones to experiment with. Hermione busied herself with examining the cellar with more scrutiny, she wanted to examine some of the enchanting experiments she'd left down here, to see if any had survived the months they'd been gone.

Ron soon came back with one of the school's roosters, teasing Hermione a bit about animal testing even as she agreed it was better they tried on a chicken rather than themselves.

"I wonder if I could channel some healing magic?" Ron wondered, glancing sceptically at the books around them.

Hermione had been examining a semi-invisible clock opposite them and Harry saw her face rapidly pale. "No. I don't want to think about you stabbing someone with healing magic, that would be-" she broke off. "Just don't."

Ron's speciality may have been very restrictive in some ways but it was very broad in others, the amount of different magics he could channel through a sword was impressive even if many of them weren't particularly useful. Harry figured Ron had an even chance at getting some healing magic to work. If he could manage any of the fancier healings it could even be helpful, though extremely weird.

* * *

By the time dinner came, Harry had tested out all the relevant healing arts and hadn't come up with any results to show for it but didn't find himself too upset. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed their secret hideaway which had been undisturbed since their last visit and rather comforting. He'd been delaying going back, certain he'd dread the repeated failures but Ron and Hermione hadn't been too concerned. Both of them had just acted happy to be back as well.

When Ron suggested that they make the excursions a regular thing once more, Harry had been quick to agree and started talking about personalising the place. They'd talked of decorating it a few times before but had never gotten around to it, unsure where to get supplies or unwilling to make the trip there with their hands full. One downside to their spot was how far away it was, especially when the weather was bad. Still it was fun to talk about.

The next week had the three of them discussing Ron's trouble with cooling charms and Hermione's obsession with the mind arts as she found some more obscure classes for Harry to try, all of which were somehow to do with mind magic, which was admittedly a very diverse branch. While it didn't come with any results, Harry hadn't been expecting any.

The week after, though they still went over to their hideaway, they didn't bother to look up any obscure classes. Their discussion instead unreservedly revolved around the Triwizard tournament and the schools that were coming. It was rather hard not to when their arrival was the nest with the tournament beginning the day after. Dumbledore had informed the school of this but had been frustratingly vague over details, eluding to a neutral judge, some grand arrivals and some fast-approaching events.

Information on Durmstrang was sparse even by wizarding standards. The most Hermione had been able to discern through the library was that it was large; a much larger school than Hogwarts. It also had a reputation for the dark arts – did that mean it attracted lots of darker specialities like Necromancers, Spell-sappers or blood mages? Or did it just teach the more standard classes darker topics?

Beauxbatons, while still mysterious, was better known. Located in France and offering training to wizards up to the age of 20, it was actually a collection of sister-schools. Hogwarts offered increasing specialisation with each succeeding year while Beauxbatons moved their students to the appropriate academy for their gifts. While it sounded a sensible system, Harry was privately glad Hogwarts didn't follow their lead. He'd almost certainly have been separated from his friends.

* * *

The next day began auspiciously enough, despite the thrum of energy throughout the castle. And despite the fact the many of his housemates were taking noticeably longer on their appearances, chattering about the foreign students. Harry ate breakfast in the great Hall as normal and endured a lesson of Magical theory with their insane professor followed by a far more interesting lesson in Defence against the Dark arts where Moody described various kinds of magical traps.

Of course, as Ron pointed out, there didn't seem to be much point in making an interesting lesson. He was bound to have to redo the whole thing next week because no one was interested in paying attention. Usually Moody's presence alone was more than enough to ensure a serious, studious atmosphere but even he couldn't make the class focus when they were diametrically opposed to the very concept. At the slightest opportunity, someone would start speculating about champions or begin passing around some article from Witch Weekly.

The day seem to fly by in a flurry of average lessons mixed with excited gossip until eventually Harry found himself standing outside the Hogwarts front entrance, in the cold, chilly, almost-November weather. He was not alone naturally. The entire school was out there, waiting for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive. Apparently, they weren't just taking the train, they had to show-off.

Despite the hectic day, now it was noticeably quiet and the minutes were crawling by as they stood out in the cold. People were talking amongst themselves but the open winds seemed to suck away all conversation and everyone's attention was fixed on the open skies. Harry shivered. Weren't wizard supposed to never be late?

He tried a warming charm or two but they weren't nearly so effective outside as they were in the cellar. So focused was he on the task of staying warm that he missed the first sight of Beauxbatons, finally proving the whole thing wasn't a myth.

It was a magnificent sight – a horse drawn carriage, with giant flying horses and a most ornate carriage, that seemed to be sending out dancing stars behind it as it flew through the air. Harry wouldn't pretend to know much about design, but the carriage seemed quite clearly French in design. It steadily drew closer.

Within a minute of the Beauxbatons appearance, Durmstrang made its own presence known. An enormous boat seemed to grow out of the usually smooth surface of the lake until a massive boat rested upon the shores. The ship could not accurately be described as Beautiful, but fierce and powerful, casting a large shadow even over the dimly lit grounds.

The Beauxbatons carriage on the other hand, once it had landed? It was lit up, drawing the eyes of all who were gathered. The massive horses landed with surprising grace and they'd barely come to a stop before their doors opened and an extremely tall woman made her way down, followed by a parade of students. She introduced herself as Madame Maxime, headmistress of Beauxbatons whilst Dumbledore gave her some kind welcomes.

Harry glanced past Madame Maxime and looked at some of her students. Where Hogwarts robes were usually at least partially black, save for the distinguishing colours and designs that signified a wizard's speciality, Beaxubatons favoured a light blue. There was a variety of classes present of course, and Harry recognised many of them. A few were new however.

One such design caught his eye, a swirling mixture of colours that seemed designed to catch the eye, noticeable even in the less than perfect light. Perhaps a dozen different colours beginning from the very bottom of the robe and only fading into Beauxbatons blue just below the chest. As the girl those robes belonged to stepped into the light from the front entrance, the colours soon proved to be bright and vivid, and Harry could only wonder why someone would be forced to wear something so bright and eye-catching where most designs were subtle.

The girl in question seemed to be glaring at everyone, apparently not even slightly happy to have arrived. Most of the other students looked at least pleasantly curious about arriving at Hogwarts castle, or at least eager to get inside, as they followed their headmistress in.

"What class was that?" Harry asked, looking between his friends.

"That was definitely an illusionist," Ron provided, somehow knowing exactly who Harry had been talking about. "I bet you can't even remember what the girl looked like."

The girl in question had just disappeared inside and despite having been just watching her, Ron was right. Harry couldn't recall any single feature about her. They all seemed to blur together.

"An illusionist? I've read about them." Hermione's tone was anything but warm. "They use their magic to mess with your senses, to play tricks on your mind. They can even do it without need for a wand." She turned to Ron. "Was she casting on us, just then?"

"Probably," Ron confirmed. "I think they're always distorting reality, for some reason."

Hermione looked to be about to make some more derogatory comments so Harry quickly intervened, unsure of what to think about the illusionist. "Here comes the Durmstrang students," he muttered.

Indeed, a regiment of them was following behind their Headmaster – Karkaroff. Where the Beauxbatons girls had looked underdressed, many of them without proper coats, the Durmstrang students were wearing thick furs and it was hard to make out any of their classes beneath them.

They didn't hang around outside for long and Hogwarts and the Durmstrang students made their way to the Great Hall together, where the Beauxbatons students were already waiting.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **In regards to updates, I'll try and keep to updates every other week; I'm a little too busy currently to manage weekly updates, I think.**

 **All feedback and comments are very welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, I know, updating this story after leaving it dormant for months? What can I say? I write nothing for ages and then I write 3000 words in one day and have to immediately post it.**

 **Regardless, thanks for all the reviews and favourites and follows! It's very kind of you, though I understand I've probably disappointed you by not updating. I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless.**

 **Edit: This chapter's layout messed up the first time I posted it, fanfiction was being problematic... I had to reupload the chapter, hopefully now it appears fine.**

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"Welcome to Hogwarts, an ancient school dedicated to cultivating the magical gifts of each and every person who comes through our doors. It is my great pleasure to welcome our lovely guests from their respective institutions. We hope to take good care of you during your stay here."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as he surveyed the great hall, which was feeling quite packed with the cluster of new students sitting amongst the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. At the teacher's table, a collection of specialists from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were also present.

"You have all been invited here to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, an ancient tournament where wizards and witches from each of our schools compete to the best of our abilities. First though, I expect you're all hungry. Shall we begin the feast?" Dumbledore addressed this question to Maxime and Karkaroff, sitting on either side of him.

"Let us eat," Maxime agreed. She then said a few words in a strange language – not French; Latin perhaps.

No sooner had she spoken then the glistening dishes in front of them magically filled themselves with food – as they did at every meal. Even then, it seemed to be an extravagant amount. Harry grinned, filling his plate with food.

"Was that a spell she cast?" Harry asked Hermione, who was seated opposite him.

It was Ron, who answered however. "A blessing, probably. She's a Sage, they're really good at those sorts of minor boons."

Hermione seemed to perk up. "A sage!? I've read about them, they're supposed to be stronger in areas of high magical concentration. Like, they absorb magic from the air and then they can manipulate it."

Harry nodded. "Good she's working in a magic school then," he replied, examining the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Supposedly every class could be identified from the robes the wizard (or witch) wore. They all had specific patterns or colours, so they could be identified at a glance. Professor Hickory, their history teacher had spoken about this method of identification being introduced almost immediately after the creation of the ministry of magic. It was supposed to help wizards focus on their unique magic if they were distinct, allowing them to achieve greater things than if they stuck to general magic anyone could learn. It also meant others could recognise their class at a glance which the ministry found to be extremely useful. It was illegal to wander the wizarding world without displaying your class in some way, and more illegal to pretend to be a different class, not this was always easy to enforce.

Of course, there were loads of different classes with distinct specialisations. Harry had no hope of recognising them all at a glance though he could get the gist. Anything to do with runes would always clearly have a spiralling rune on the shoulders – which meant language according to Hermione. All classes of healing magic including a long white scarf. Each elemental class were easy to recognise by the symbol of their element. Seers of all kinds had that stylised eye on their back. After a few years in the wizarding world, Harry was becoming more adept at recognising many of the classes, or at least the branches.

But now there were all these new witches and wizards with specialisations he hadn't encountered before. As he ate generous amounts of food, (including the odd foreign dish), he examined what he could see of the foreign students. They were all at least 17, of course, and there wasn't a single generalist pattern in sight. Was that because there were none who hadn't discovered their speciality or had some students chosen not to come to the tournament? He was thinking the latter, given the high number of classes suited to battle, and very few seer classes.

He recalled the illusionist he had noticed earlier from Beauxbatons and scanned the table for her. Hermione had mentioned as the trailed in how illusionists were troublesome. Supposedly, they had a reputation for being thieves and, though it was a rare class, there had been a few notable dark wizard illusionists. He couldn't see the girl seated anywhere. Was she hidden?

At that moment, a voice spoke up on his left. "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?

Harry turned, startled, to see the very girl who had been on his mind. She shot him a teasing grin that didn't quite reach her eyes at his reaction. How had he missed her walking across the hall?

"Yeah," he managed to say, turning to grab the dish. "I mean, yeah you can have it."

He glanced at his friends. Hermione looked nervous. Ron looked awed.

The girl accepted the dish gracefully. "Merci," she said with a nod.

She turned away, and this time Harry focussed on her, wondering if she would suddenly disappear. Her robes were garish in the well-lit room and he supposed it was to make it harder for her to disappear from sight. Yet, before his eyes, the room seemed to ripple ever so slightly, and the blur of colour seemed to become less distinct. Harry forced himself to focus on her, but she faded into a shadow and then into nothing at all. She was invisible. Perhaps she'd sat down at the table again, but if so there was nothing to see unless she wished it to be.

"The illusionist, she doesn't seem to use spells at all, does she?" Harry asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the Ravenclaw table.

"It's absurd, isn't it? She could be right next to us and we wouldn't know. We didn't know," Hermione replied. "I guess we can be glad she decided to announce herself to us at all."

"And she was really beautiful, was that magic?" Ron agreed, looking markedly less worried.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, honestly. Her whole appearance was probably fake, she's an illusionist!"

Her appearance? Once again, it was mostly a blur to him. He just remembered brilliant blue eyes and that fake smile. Funny, she had the power to manipulate what people saw, yet she still couldn't manage a real smile.

As the feast drew to a close, the anticipation in the room seemed to grow. Dinner's conversation had soon moved into speculation on how the champions would be chosen and who the champion for Hogwarts would be. Hermione's research into the tournament had failed to dig up much information and so a plethora of ideas were being discussed. Fred and George were discussing whether the judge could be tricked, as Fred was very keen to enter. George was an enchanter like Hermione and was planning on entering some of the side competitions more suited to his abilities.

Finally, the desserts were cleared away and Dumbledore stood him, allowing a hush to fall over the hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, the time has come to formally introduce the Triwizard tournament!"

"From each school, one champion will be chosen to compete in a series of tasks. These tasks will be dangerous so do consider carefully before you make your decision. If you are chosen, you must compete!"

"In each task, save for the final task, our chosen champion will also be able to select a companion to help them. This companion should be able to cover their shortcomings as you all have your own talents," Dumbledore explained. It seemed Hermione's books had been right about that much.

"If you are still intent on competing, we ask that you be of age. There have been several attempts to bring back the tournament over the years and we hope that with these extra safety features introduced this year, it will be a successful event." Dumbledore smiled at some of the groans from Hogwarts students too young to compete.

"Now, to introduce our judge…" Dumbledore trailed off, gesturing to the doors behind him where Hagrid emerged, bringing with him a large, heavy looking casket.

It was placed in the centre of the room, facing the staff table. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore let the casket open, revealing a large silver Goblet. Harry stared at it, wondering what it was supposed to do.

"This is the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore declared, and with another wave of his wand the Goblet burst into flame. Harry gasped, but a second later, blues flames began burning inside the strange artefact.

"The Goblet has been lit, therefore the Triwizard tournament has begun!"

Harry glanced around the hall, seeing faces a mixture of confusion and awe. It was a cool artefact, and opposite him, Hermione was eagerly scribbling down some notes on a piece of parchment, without taking her eyes off the burning Goblet.

"If you would like to compete, then please write your name down on some parchment, and your school. The Goblet of Fire will choose a worthy champion in 24 hours, at the Halloween feast."

Dumbledore then explained the age line he'd put around the Goblet to prevent any young wizards from trying to enter. Fred and George smirked to each other, already plotting ways around it. The tournament organisers were also introduced, including Mr Crouch and Ludo Bagman from the ministry.

Soon afterwards, they were dismissed. People immediately began surrounding the Goblet of Fire. The tournament sounded exciting though Dumbledore hadn't given any details on any of the tasks. How dangerous would they be? Would it be like the traps guarding the Philosopher's stone in his first year? Would all the people clamouring to participate still feel the same when they saw what they would be facing?

"It'd be amazing to participate, wouldn't it?" Ron spoke up, looking longingly at the Goblet of fire. As they watched, the sapphire flames suddenly turned a vibrant red. Someone was entering their name in now.

"Would it?"

"1000 galleons, eternal glory. Think of winning in front of everyone, proving that we're strong too." Ron was resting a hand on the longsword at his hip.

"Do you think we could do it?" Harry asked.

"Why shouldn't we? We've done lots of stuff we shouldn't have been able to do. Defeating Quirrell, finding the chamber of secrets, fighting a troll. We'd be great."

Harry frowned. "But I'm not a battle mage or something strong. Anyone can do what I can. Most of that was just luck, you know?"

Hermione turned towards them, finally looking away from the Goblet of fire. "Class isn't everything. Still, I think I'll be quite happy just watching it take place."

Later, as he was falling asleep in his bed up in Gryffindor tower, Harry considered his friend's words. He could see himself representing Hogwarts. Winning despite being a generalist. Proving his fame was not just for his mother's sacrifice but something he could live up to.

* * *

The next day passed in a whirlwind of expectation. People everywhere were speculating on who was entering the Tournament. The Beauxbatons students had done it all in a row at Breakfast and for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of the illusionist girl putting her name in too, before disappearing once more.

People spoke of her too, of how an illusionist was wandering around Hogwarts unchecked and what sort of trouble she was causing. Though she'd made herself scarce as much as possible, the rumours of her presence had spread rather quickly. Her lack of presence was not reassuring them at all.

It was a little unfair really, Harry was sure if she had been seen around the corridors people would be even more unnerved. Maybe she was walking around the corridors and simply no one recognised her, not if her garish robes were made to look normal. It wasn't like anyone actually had any idea what she looked like. A few people even suggested she was a boy.

More hype was made of Viktor Krum, a Durmstrang student. Harry had seen him fly at the Quidditch world cup, of course, but they hadn't realised he was still in school. Nor had they known that outside of his Quidditch kit, he was a powerful elementalist. Elementalists were gifted at fire, air, earth and water magic, and sometimes even more. As a quidditch player he was presumably especially talented at air magic.

Apparently, most Quidditch professionals had the sort of class that complemented their flying ability. It wasn't legal to cast magic in a Quidditch game, but some classes instinctively used magic and subtly improved themselves. It was almost impossible to prevent some classes some accessing their power and so they naturally had an advantage.

Harry had discovered he was a real natural on a broom – he loved flying. All his experimentation on it had yielded no results though. He hadn't been able to find any trends in his ability to fly and his class, despite his efforts.

Speaking of quidditch players, Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor chaser, had put her name in the Goblet of Fire. She was an aeromage, specialising wholly in air magic and had suggested Katie Bell as her companion in the tasks. Katie was only a fifth year, but she and Angelina were good friends and their specialisations complemented each other. The rules had not included any stipulations on the age of the companion.

Katie was a Spellsinger, she weaved magic through singing and was particularly good at spells relating to sounds. Angelina had found she was quite good at manipulating sound waves with her air magic and they had managed to create some impressive results by mixing their two talents. The more complicated the song was, the more powerful the magic and the pair of them were sure to be interesting.

Fred Weasley had claimed to want Katie as his companion too if he successfully entered – he was a Bard and channelled music and magic through instruments and through performance. Harry wasn't sure on the details, but he suspected that Fred's magic grew more potent in front of crowds, meaning it'd be at its best during the Tournament. Either way, he also worked well with Katie's singing.

Fred's aim to compete was not to be however, their efforts to get past Dumbledore's age line had failed, in comical ways. Not even the aging potion, brewed by their friend Lee Jordan (who specialised in potions) had worked. The white beard was something though.

Much as Harry would have like Angelina to be their champion though, there seemed to be some sort of consensus on Cedric Diggory, a sixth year Conjurer. Conjuration was all about creating things, or sometimes summoning things and Cedric was very good. Last year he'd shown off his duelling talent, creating objects and animals to distract and sometimes attack his opponent, mixed with plenty of general magic to disable.

By the time the Halloween feast came in the evening, Harry was anxious for the Tournament to begin. Even with just a brief time left, a few people were still approaching the Goblet of fire to throw their name in. Harry thought they were mad to do it in front of the whole school so soon before the results – he would've entered in the middle of the night, that way no one would know you'd entered.

The Halloween feast was always grand at Hogwarts of course, but they'd had a grand feast yesterday, and he wasn't that hungry. Even Ron had only taken a modest amount of food and he could see everyone's attention flickering to the Goblet of fire, burning merrily in the centre of the room. How would you know if you'd been chosen? What was going to happen?

The hall was always buzzing at mealtimes but every few minutes it seemed a hush would fall over the hall and everyone would stare at the Goblet as if expecting something to happen before conversation returned once more. It was rather unnerving really.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up at some sort of unspoken signal. He wandered over to the Goblet of fire and all conversation silenced one final time.

"It seems the Goblet is ready to make its decision," he declared. "Whoever's name comes out of the Goblet will be the Champion. Good luck!"

Several moments passed while the blue flames of the Goblet burned away merrily. Then they flashed a bright orange red and a tiny slip of paper flew out. Dumbledore reached out and expertly caught it.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"

There was roaring approval across the hall, a great eruption of noise as the Bulgarian seeker and elementalist stood up. Of course it was Viktor Krum, who else? He walked up to the front of the room, to cheers from all the schools, Karkaroff was looking particularly delighted, standing up to congratulate his school's champion.

As Viktor headed through doors on the other side of the Hall, the flames sparked red once again. A parchment fluttered out and Dumbledore was ready to catch it.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" He announced.

There was a flurry of applause, though not nearly so booming as for Krum. Harry didn't recognise the name. He was therefore surprised to see it was the illusionist girl, visible once more and looking extra striking in her dazzling robes. Mutters arose across the hall as people recognised her, and her class.

She seemed unaffected by the lukewarm reception however, striding confidently through the hall looking every inch a champion in a way the duck-footed Krum hadn't managed. But then again, she could distort what people saw, and they were less than impressed with her perfection.

Fleur Delacour. The name suited her.

Fleur soon disappeared to join Krum in the room beyond and Harry turned his attention to the Goblet of Fire once more. He spared a glance for Angelina, further down the bench, staring at the Goblet through her fingers. She twitched as the Goblet turned a burning red once more, and a final name shot out of the Goblet.

"The Champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

The hall burst into applause and cheers broke out at the Hufflepuff table. Angelina sighed and after a moment began clapping along as well. Cedric wasn't a Gryffindor, but Harry couldn't deny that he was a good champion. Last year he'd beaten Harry to the snitch, (though the dementors had thrown them off) and everything he'd heard said that Cedric was talented at magic. He stood up and marched confidently towards Dumbledore who shook his hand and followed the other champions into the side room.

Dumbledore beamed and began to make some concluding remarks, before breaking off suddenly.

The Goblet glowed red again and a piece of parchment flew out of the Goblet. Harry could hear the muttering across the hall. What was wrong? Even Dumbledore looked confused.

Nevertheless, he stared at the parchment intently before looking up at the gathered students.

"Harry Potter."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please feel free to review.**

 **I'd love to have someone to go over some of my ideas and maybe encourage me to update with regularity. I will try to update again as I have written out a vague plan for this story and I do want to complete it.**

 **Please PM me if you'd be interested in helping out. In particular I was thinking of rewriting an earlier chapter a little and properly outline an actual resolution to the prisoner of Azkaban plotline, which really should've been changed from canon a little though the focus will stay on book 4, where I am introducing a few differences. Maybe I should try to be more different? I've stuck to a canon tone, but maybe it's too canon?**


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